


only want what's real

by fideliter



Series: kinktober 2018 [3]
Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 5
Genre: M/M, Mirror Sex, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-24 23:44:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16185656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fideliter/pseuds/fideliter
Summary: They — they don’t do slow. It’s hard enough to manage the time together, and harder still to make it work. And when they do manage it, there’s usually an undercurrent of violence to it: blood and bruises and too much teeth. It’s not, it’s never been anything besides that. But tonight, it’s slow.





	only want what's real

A picture might be worth a thousand words, but Abe would need a helluva lot more to describe this view.

There’s a lot of skin on display — his, and John’s — and from this angle he can see, watch, every single twitch, every flex of muscle. It’s intoxicating. It’s beautiful, John is beautiful. He’s sitting on the very edge of the bed, spine arched and head thrown back against Abe’s shoulder. Laid bare and vulnerable. He’s on display and preening; John Seed hardly ever misses a chance to show off.

And Abe, hell.

He wouldn’t trade this view for the world.

One hand curls around his hip, fingers splayed against the expanse of ink there. Nonsensical tattoos intertwined with declarations of sin, snippets from the gospel of God and the gospel of the Father. The other hand is curled delicately around John’s cock, working it with steady, slow strokes. With each pass of his hand, John hisses through his teeth — dark eyelids fluttering against flushed skin.

They — they don’t do slow. It’s hard enough to manage the time together, and harder still to make it work. And when they do manage it, there’s usually an undercurrent of violence to it: blood and bruises and too much teeth. It’s not, it’s never been anything besides that. But tonight, it’s slow.

It’s slow, it’s decadent, and Abe might just come from this front row view alone.

“Hey.” Abe says, setting his chin on John’s shoulder, slowing his hand until John opens his eyes. Stops everything until he can see those baby blues for himself, and then he grins, lips curving. “I think I like you like this.”

John scoffs and then shivers, because there’s still a hand on his cock, around his cock. “Like what?” If his voice is a little thready, a little bit breathless, then surely no one can blame him — because Abe’s hand is moving again. It’s more than a little unfair but John isn’t complaining. His hips rock up into the hand holding him tight, arching his spine just a little bit more.

It’s so, so easy to show off now that he’s in front of the mirror.

“Like this,” Abe says, emphasizing it by twisting his wrist just so on the next stroke. John’s mouth falls open as he whines, hips jerking. “Yeah, just like that.” Happy and close and blissed out on pleasure, not on drugs. Or flowers, or whatever else they’re cooking up in the Hensbane.

John Seed might be a lot of things, but he’s good like this. He deserves to be like this. They all need a little more softness in their life. They might not get a happy ending, they might never get candlelight and flower petals, but they could have this. Abe presses a kiss to the side of John’s throat as he continues to stroke, murmuring lowly in his ear.

Abe can’t decide where he wants to look, he’s spoiled for choice, but he’s definitely not looking at anything but John.


End file.
